


Inadvisable, But Good.

by silver_sun



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Dom/sub, Gunplay, M/M, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, dom!Ianto/sub!Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-20
Updated: 2012-05-20
Packaged: 2017-11-05 17:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/409034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_sun/pseuds/silver_sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto shows Jack just how well he can handle a weapon, and Jack enjoys it.  </p><p>Written for a rounds-of-kink prompt, Dom!Ianto/sub!Jack, gun play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inadvisable, But Good.

**Title:** Inadvisable, But Good.  
 **Pairing/Fandom:** Ianto/Jack. Torchwood  
 **Rating:** NC17/Adult/FRAO.  
 **Prompts:** Ianto/Jack. Gun play. Ianto shows Jack how well he can handle a gun.   
**Warnings:** Gun play, D/s themes – All consensual as D/s should be.   
**Summary:** Ianto shows Jack just how well he can handle a weapon, and Jack enjoys it.   
**A/N:** This is PWP. Set sometime in series 2. I know somebody else also took this prompt, any similarities are unintentional, I haven’t had time to read your fic or even find out if you've posted it yet. Written for rounds_of_kink

 

 

“So me with a gun gets you hot, does it?” Ianto asks, a smile playing on his lips, as he notices Jack watching him clean and catalogue the Torchwood armoury.

“Better believe it.” Jack leans back against the edge of workbench where Ianto has the guns laid out. Ianto in a waistcoat is hot, Jack is the first to admit that, but the waistcoat, rolled up shirtsleeves and a smudge of gun oil his on his cheek combination is scorching. 

Ianto runs his fingertips along the length of one of the guns, caressing the smooth, cold metal of the weapon, before picking it up. “And what about this?” Ianto drags the tip of the gun across the crotch of Jack’s trousers where his cock is already straining against the fabric. 

Jack gasps, eyes closing for a moment, pleased and surprised that Ianto is playing into one of his fantasies. 

“You like this, don’t you?” Ianto says with certainty, as he crowds Jack back against the workbench. “You like it when I take control.”

“Oh yeah.” Jack’s voice is heavy with lust, his eyes seeming a darker blue now that the pupils have dilated. 

“Then I think we should have some fun,” Ianto says, slowly rubbing the gun against the inside of Jack’s thigh. “How do you want to play this?” 

“Rough.” Jack pushes against the gun, needing the contact just a little higher. “Make me do what you want.” 

“In that case let’s take this somewhere we won’t be disturbed.” Still keeping the gun pressed against Jack’s thigh, Ianto curls his other hand around the back of Jack’s neck, as he kisses him.

The kiss is fierce, Ianto nipping at Jack’s lips until he opens his mouth and he can push his tongue inside. Pulling back, Ianto asks, “Normal limits? Or are we pushing it today?” 

Jack’s breathing hard, eyes dark with lust, as he replies, “Normal.” 

Ianto smiles, and shows the empty clip and chamber of the gun to Jack, before returning it to its previous position against Jack’s thigh. 

Jack’s done this before when he’d been with John Hart, back in the days before they used the names that they do now. John had never bothered to make sure there weren’t any bullets left and he’d never cared enough to check. But then they’d been wild and crazy, and quite frequently high. Back then the average life expectancy of a Time Agent on active duty had been measured in months, and everybody seemed to believe in live fast, die young and have one hell of a time while you do it. 

Doing this with Ianto is different. While Jack knows that he can’t lose his life any more, immortality and the fact that Ianto would never consider doing this without making sure the gun is unloaded makes him sure of that, there somehow seems to be even more at stake. 

Walking through the deserted Hub, Ianto keeps the gun pressed against Jack’s back until they reach Jack’s office. Gesturing to the ladder down to the cramped room below, Ianto waits for Jack to climb down before following him.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ianto points the gun at Jack with one hand, while he opens his flies with the other. “Stand in the corner and strip, I want to see just what I’m getting.” 

Jack flashes Ianto a smile before starting to unbutton his shirt. Taking his clothes off is something that Jack rarely says no to – he knows how good he looks, enough people have told him so over the years, but with Ianto watching him as intently as he is right now, he’s starting to feel a little self-conscious. 

It’s the difference, Jack supposes, between nude and naked. Normally it’s all the same to him, but right now he’s starting to feel a lot more naked and vulnerable than he’s use to. 

“You seem happy for a man with a gun pointed at him,” Ianto says, still keeping his eyes fixed on Jack, as he starts to stroke his cock. 

“What can I say?” Jack says with a grin, as he takes off his trousers. “Keep the guy with the gun happy and things generally turn out a lot less messy.” 

“Very wise,” Ianto says, an amused smile on his lips, although the gun doesn’t waver. 

Once Jack has stripped, clothes folded in a neat pile on the floor, Ianto gives Jack an appraising look, and gestures with the gun for Jack to kneel in front of him, before saying, “Come over here and suck me off.” 

“Yes, sir.” Dropping to his knees, Jack licks and kisses Ianto’s cock from root to tip, tasting the salt pre-cum, before taking it as deep into his mouth as he can. 

Jack’s good at this, and he knows it. Several lifetimes of practice and that he knows Ianto’s body almost as well as his own, means that it doesn’t take long before he has Ianto gasping and pushing forwards into his mouth. 

The gun is held slackly in Ianto’s free hand, the other grips Jack’s shoulder in an attempt not to fall off the edge of the bed. Jack knows how easy it would be to take the gun from Ianto right now, he’s done it often enough in the past to get out of tight situations. 

When Ianto comes with a gasp, his hand tightening on Jack’s shoulder, hips lifting up of the bed, Jack continues to lick and suck enthusiastically until Ianto’s grip on his shoulder lessens.

Only after Ianto’s cock is soft again, and he’s licked it clean, does Jack sit back on the floor, and look up at him, wanting to know where this game is going next. His own cock is still hard, and now that he hasn’t got pleasuring Ianto to distract him it seems to ache with the lack of attention it has received. 

Ianto is flushed and still breathing hard as he looks down at Jack. “You’re good at that.” 

“If you’ve got talent like mine, why waste it?” Jack gives him a cocky smile. Being told how good he is at sex is something that Jack has always enjoyed.

“Let’s see what else you’re good at.” Ianto strokes the gun slowly down Jack's cheek almost tenderly, before, in one fast movement, he presses it hard under Jack’s chin. “Now get on the bed and don’t try anything funny.” 

The fact that he knows that the gun isn't loaded doesn't make the thrill of fear and excitement that races through Jack any less real, and he flinches back, breath catching in his throat. 

Ianto lowers the gun, and puts a steady, reassuring in hand on Jack's shoulder, before leaning forward to speak quietly in his ear, “If you need to stop, tell me.”

“Don't stop.” Jack shakes his head, heart pounding and adrenaline racing. It had just been the swiftness of the action that had been surprising, and he really doesn’t want Ianto to stop, not when what they are doing is making him so turned on he feels almost light-headed with it. 

“Alright.” Ianto kisses Jack, a more tender gesture than he’s made since they started this scene. Moving aside he gives Jack room to get up on the bed beside him.

Once Jack is kneeling on the bed, Ianto trails the gun slowly down Jack's spine, until the barrel is pressed against his arse. 

His hands clutching the bed covers tightly, Jack groans, the light pressure of the gun against his hole filling his head with images that are both erotic and a little disturbing. 

“Do you want me to fuck you with the gun?” Ianto’s breath is hot on Jack’s skin, the press of his woollen suit against Jack’s bare skin somehow more sensual than if he were also naked. 

Jack makes an inarticulate sound, and pushes back against it, needing, wanting more. 

“Is that it? You want to feel it inside you, hard and unforgiving, making you come?”  
Ianto increases the pressure slightly, although not enough to force it inside. “Tell me you want this.”

Swallowing hard, his concentration gone, Jack nods, unable to get out any words. 

“I didn’t hear you.” Ianto strokes a hand up the inside of Jack’s thigh. “Tell me how much you want this, or you’re not going to get anything.” 

“I want this,” Jack says desperately, leaning back against the gun, knowing that he’ll take anything that Ianto gives him right now. 

“Not convinced.” Ianto continues to stroke his hand up the inside of Jack’s thigh, until it’s against his balls. “Tell me again.” 

“Ianto, please.” 

Suddenly the pressure is gone, all contact is gone, and Jack’s left kneeling on the bed, feeling strangely bereft, and wondering what he’s done wrong to make Ianto stop. 

A moment later Ianto drops a bottle of lube on the bed in front of him, saying, “Get yourself ready.”

Hands clumsy with lust, it takes Jack a moment to open the cap and coat his fingers, the whole time hyper aware that Ianto is watching him.

After being hard for what feels like an eternity the slick push of his own fingers inside himself is so good that Jack knows he could get himself off in a matter of moments. What’s being offered though is so much more than a little bit of self-gratification, and the thought that Ianto might refuse to do this again if he gets himself off or to have to see the disappointment in Ianto’s eyes, is enough, Jack finds, to keep him back from the edge and finish preparing himself.

“Good boy.” Ianto kisses and nips at Jack’s neck before pushing Jack’s legs wider apart with his knee. “Time for your reward.” 

“Yes, sir.” There’s probably something faintly ridiculous about Ianto calling him, somebody over a century his senior, boy, but right now it seems right, good. Because right now he belongs to Ianto, and the fact that Ianto’s pleased with him gives Jack a sense of satisfaction and happiness that he’s been finding it increasingly difficult to get in everyday life – there’s something about working for Torchwood that seems to tarnish everything that it comes into with, so that even when he succeeds he can’t help but feel that he should have done it better, that he should have been able to save more people or solved what was going on quicker. 

Despite the preparation the blunt muzzle of the gun breeching him is almost too much, and Jack can’t help it as his body tenses. It’s an automatic reaction as the realisation that he’s doing something which could under other circumstances kill him, albeit temporarily, hits home. 

Ianto keeps the gun still until Jack relaxes, his hand rubbing slow circles at the base of Jack’s spine. 

The gun is cold and hard once it’s inside him, and Ianto starts to rock it slow back and forth. The sliding on/off pressure against his prostate quickly drives away the last shreds of coherent thought. 

The realisation that Ianto is going to make him come with the pressure of the gun inside him is enough to tip Jack over the edge. 

Crying out, muscles contracting hard around the unforgiving metal, the intensity of the orgasm after having held back for so long leaves Jack breathless and shaking. It’s only Ianto’s arm around him that prevents him from collapsing forward on the bed.

Later, still a little sore and a lot satisfied, Jack sighs contentedly as Ianto, now naked as well, gets into bed with him, spooning against his back. 

Jack’s almost asleep when Ianto whispers in his ear, “Maybe next time you can show me what you do to employees who misuse company weaponry.” 

Smiling, Jack settles back against Ianto, and hopes for some nice, creative dreams.


End file.
